I was not diagnosed with Obsessive-Compulsive disorder until I began therapy during treatment for my drug addiction. After careful observation and consideration, my therapist came to the conclusion that I most likely have been suffering from OCD for the better part of my life. As a result, I was most likely attempting to self-medicate the symptoms of my OCD with substances, eventually leading to my drug addiction. It is not uncommon for addicts to have co-occurring disorders that helped fuel their drug or alcohol addictions, and because of this, I am extremely passionate about spreading awareness pertaining to mental health and addiction.
Anxiety is more than a word.
I can’t remember much about my disorder preceding the time that I was, say, 12 years old. However, I do remember the traumatic moments that likely started it all.
Published about 2 hours ago
It’s not about them anymore.
The loneliest road to walk is the road that leads to a place of isolation and an acute loneliness, brought on through the parasite force known as depression. You’re stuck inside a shell that has cracked and is seeping the most destructive emotions, tearing at your body and mind, and no matter how hard you try you just cannot shake it loose.
My mental illness feels like I'm in the midst of a giant, cluttered, shrub. I feel trapped, I struggle to move, and I am almost constantly terrified. Even though I have a mental health condition, none of the labels make sense to me perfectly. I used to think that illness was treated with a straightforward approach, you get ill, then diagnosed, then treated, and then better. I am now realising that my illness—and no illness—is that linear and predictable.
It was a hot summer day in North Carolina and the family decided to head out to the lake to cool off and enjoy the day. This was a big lake, with very deep waters and I remember that you couldn’t go out very far before it was over your head. I was around the age of 10, and I really wasn’t that great of a swimmer and got frightened anytime someone tried holding me down or pulling on me in the water, so I stayed pretty close to the shoreline. I remember being on the shore when I noticed that my sisters had all gone to the end of the very long pier, or at least to me it seemed a mile out into the dark water. I decided I wanted to go be with them, so I ran down the pier afraid of missing out on anything fun. I remember almost reaching the end where my sisters all older than me had gathered sitting on the edge when I started to slide on the wet pier floor and flew right off the end into the lake.
Monday September 16th, 7 AM: